


Columbidea Ornithophobia: Pigeons, and the Men who Fear Them

by OurMoonLightRevels



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Ornithophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 03:51:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7829407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurMoonLightRevels/pseuds/OurMoonLightRevels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's fears come home to roost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Columbidea Ornithophobia: Pigeons, and the Men who Fear Them

**Author's Note:**

> For #6

In the aftermath of Albus’ adventures in time, Ginny noted, Harry had being putting a lot of effort into building a good relationship with him. Misguided efforts at times, (taking him to visit Privet Drive) but with some successful endeavours (taking Albus and Scorpius on trek to see the Chudley Cannons). She idly eyed him up, he was currently sprawled across their bed, snoring his head off, limbs akimbo and hair in its standard disarray.

In her head she was trying to juggle the upcoming week. The kids were back from Hogwarts for Yule. They had already cordially accepted an invite to the grand ball at Malfoy Manor (over which Albus was rapturous) and had a Weasley family meal planned before everyone went off to enjoy their separate festivities. This year Mum had conceded and was going to have a muggle Christmas, so instead of fitting everyone into the Burrow, Mum and Dad would be off to Ron and Hermione’s, and the Potter clan would be joining them for a mini feast.

In between contemplating if Lily was going to need yet another party dress and how they were going to cope with the lingering anxiety of Voldemort once again hanging over them, Harry started to shift in his sleep.

“No…no...NO STOP THE PIGEonzzzzzzzzzz…” Ginny rolled her eyes. This was the fourth time this week Harry had had a pigeon related dream. She had no idea where this had come from, but every attempt to bring it up resulted in Harry quickly finding an excuse to leave. At least this one seemed to subside before he woke up sweating and shaking.

Of all the things to be shook loose with their recent adventures, undiscovered pigeon trauma was really not even on the list of things that she had been expecting, but that wasn’t exactly new where it came to Harry. She gently smoothed his hair down before rolling over and settling down to sleep.

**

The next morning was a whirlwind of chaos, with a sugar filled James and Lily rushing off with Ron, Rose and Teddy for some Christmas shopping. Albus had opted to go with Scorpius and Draco for his shopping, and she couldn’t say that she blamed him one bit when they turned up, immaculately presented and bang on time with a polite knock on the door, not a screaming child in sight.

“Malfoy, Scorpius, it’s lovely to see you both.” she said, opening the door to invite them in for a spot of tea. Lovely was probably stretching it, but she was willing to push the limits if it kept Scorpius (and therefore Albus) happy.

Scorpius beamed up at her, “Is Albus ready?” he asked politely

Ginny shook her head and motioned him up the stairs, “He’s probably still in bed. I do try waking him up in the morning, but one thing he and Harry share is an inability to get up. I’d suggest knocking loudly, you know where his room is.” With that Scorpius thundered up the stairs, followed with loud banging that reverberated through the house.

“Tea?” She suggested at Malfoy.

“…sure. I mean, that would be delightful. Thank you.”

Awkward, they made their way into the kitchen, where Ginny threw a heating spell at the kettle while moving to the cabinet to get the good china down. Not that she was trying to impress Malfoy, but it was nice to use the good stuff every once in a while.

Levitating the milk from the fridge and the sugar from the pantry, she arranged the table with a few flicks of her wand, and was steadily pouring the boiling water into the teapot as Harry decided to make his dramatic entrance. Half awake and wearing only his pyjama bottoms, scratching at both his hair and his stomach. He zombie walked over to her and kissed her temple before suddenly stopping dead in his tracks and turning like a bird in the crosshairs towards Malfoy.

For his part Malfoy was attempting and failing to hide his laughter behind his cup of tea.

Harry did a quick about face and marched out of the room, Ginny turned and caught Malfoy’s eye and the pair of them burst into laughter.

“Tea?” Ginny asked, wiping an amused tear out of her eye.

“Thank you,” Malfoy said, and took a seat at her table.

They had barely sat down and filled their cups before the morning quiet was broken by the sound of a herd of elephants (or at least, two teens doing their best impression of one), before Albus and Scorpius thundered in, devouring a round of toast and talking over each other so that Ginny understood none of the ensuing conversation. Malfoy, for his part, tried for all of five minutes to keep track of it all before he was calling out niceties and hustling them out the door as fast as he could, restoring blissful silence.

Ginny sat back down and smiled to herself, things weren’t perfect but they had a happy home when it counted.

Harry slunk back down stairs, fully clothes and hair in slightly less disarray than normal. “Glad to see that git’s gone. You could have warned me!” he whined taking a seat next to Ginny and leaning against her.

“Now, where would the fun in that be? Maybe that’ll teach you to get dressed before you drag yourself down here in a morning!” She smiled and gave him a quick morning kiss, before broaching the touchy subject. “Sleep okay last night?”

Harry groaned. “Another pigeon dream? I can’t remember it if it was. But it’d explain why I’m so exhausted again.” He concentrated on scooping sugar into his tea cup, eyeing the fancy china. “You don’t have to impress that wanker, you know that, right?”

Ginny cuffed him around the back of the head, “His name is Malfoy. Well, you know what I mean. You could at least attempt to get on with him, I think they’re going to be around for some time to come.”

A kerfuffle occurred at the window as the normal swoop of owls descended. The fanmail, though much diminished, still turned up regular as clockwork. In the mayhem neither of them heard Malfoy’s head pop up in the fireplace, hidden from view from their current perch. 

“Are you sure we can’t stop him from hanging out with a Malfoy?”

Ginny cuffed him again, “Is there any power, other than your own childish stupidity, that would have stopped you from hanging around with Ron and Hermione? So no, we can’t. Not unless you want to see what their next magical adventure will be. Maybe they’ll bring Grindlewald back next time!”

“Alright, I know we can’t. Doesn’t mean I can’t wish he’d befriended anyone other than a Malfoy...” Harry said, disgust tinting his words. Ginny made to swipe again, and Harry ducked out of the way. 

“Oh get over yourself! Anyway, about these dreams, do you think they mean something?” Ginny dropped the mail on the table, and stroked her hand through Harry’s hair.

“As in, is Voldemort on his way back again, again, kind of way? No, I just…I just. I’ve just got a bit of a thing. About, about pigeons. I’m sure it’ll pass.” Harry ducked his head and made to leave the kitchen, Ginny pulled him back towards her.

“It’s okay, Harry, everyone has fears. But maybe we should try and get to the bottom of it, before it gets any worse.” 

“It’s fine. I’m fine, there’s no need to make a bloody fuss.” With that Harry stormed out, conveniently masking the noise as Malfoy’s smirking face disappeared from the flames.

**

“Thinks he’s all high and mighty does he? Thinks his precious son is better than mine? How DARE HE!”

Dibby the house-elf was running around after Draco as he paced the library, throwing a tantrum the likes of which hadn’t been seen since his Hogwarts days. Draco was in a righteous rage, how dare POTTER! Potter of all people talk about his son in that way. As if it wasn’t Albus who was the bad apple in this situation, dragging Scorpius into near death experiences and then daring to act like a Malfoy was yet again no match for a Potter. “I’ll show him. Pigeons. PIGEONS. MWAHAHAHAH-“

“Dad?” Scorpius timidly popped his head around the door.

“..ahem. Scorpius, is everything ok?” Draco attempted to put himself in order, wand flicking to pick up some books he had overenthusiastically knocked over, and running a hand over his coif to smooth it back into place.

The pair eyed each other over the chaos.

“I was going to ask you the same question…you sounded…erm. You sounded like something might be the matter?” Scorpius dropped his gaze and fidgeted with the edge of his robes.

“Oh, no nothing of the sort! In fact something is very, very right. I’m going to show him what’s what. That’s for sure.”

“Okay then. I mean, remember what Mum used to say when you’d get like this?” Scorpius said tentatively smiling in Draco’s direction.

“What, of course no one is going to get hurt!”

“That’s not what I meant. Are you sure you need to do, whatever it is you’re plotting? I mean, it’s nice to see you with a scheme, you haven’t really, I mean, since mum. This is probably the most you I’ve seen you be.” Scorpius smiled up at his dad. 

“I…I guess I have let my schemes fall by the wayside. But no more! I’m back and I have a dastardly plan.”

“But, no one’s going to get hurt, right? Or arrested?”

“On my name as a Malfoy, no one’s going to get hurt…or arrested.”

“I’ll leave you to it then. Do you need me to do anything for the ball?”

“No, I just want you to have a good time. Everything is under control.” Although the gleam in Draco’s eye would suggest otherwise.

**

The day of the Malfoy ball dawned bright and early for the Potters. The Granger-Weasley’s had also been extended an invitation, so they would all be travelling down together in a carriage Ron had put on specially, intending not to shame the Potter/Granger/Weasley names at such a fancy occasion.

Well that, and a staunch refusal to allow Malfoy to get the better of them. Which meant that they would have to endure Albus and his manic excitement at getting to spend more time with Scorpius for the entire day. Ever since the time travelling there had been no separating the pair, and as much as Ginny wished he had more friends, she was happy that the one solid friend he had seemed to be enough for him.

Malfoy had been kind enough to invite them all to the pre-ball feast, for which the top of the top in wizarding society would be present. Although being the Minister for Magic and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, it wasn’t as if they wouldn’t have been invited anyway. But it was kind of Malfoy to make it a personal invitation, rather than one of obligation.

As the group gathered together to set off and settled into the luxuriously appointed carriage, Harry, Ron and Hermione’s thoughts rushed ahead of them to the Manor while Ginny and Albus started a quite conversation about magical transportation.

“I can’t believe we are willingly going back there again.” Ron said.

Hermione nodded, “Well, at least we’ve been invited in this time. You’d hope the reception would be a little kinder than the last.”

Ron snorted. “With Malfoy welcoming us in, are you really sure of that!”

“He’s a git, but he’s not Bellatrix.” A shudder ran through the trio, thoughts lingering on their time spent captive at the Manor.

“Just the thought of eating in that house is giving me the heebie-jeebies.” Ron shuddered again.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s only for a night. What could go wrong?”

**

Malfoy Manor was something of a shock to Harry and the gang as their carriage rolled up to the front entrance. Light spilled across the estate from windows adorned by Christmas decorations; snow was falling to the ground across the Manor in a spell reminiscent of the Great Hall at Hogwarts; the fountain in the gardens was glittering, and instead of water pouring from the fountain heads, snowflakes fell slowly before turning into water in the basin.

The smells of cinnamon, cloves and orange drifted through the air and as the group stepped down from the carriage, a small but well clothed house elf introduced herself as the free elf Dibby, and escorted them across the driveway, snow parting before their feet as they walked to the main entrance.

As they entered the first set of doors, Dibby asked if she could take their outer robes, and when given permission they vanished for a second, reappearing at a cloak room where they drifted themselves onto hangers and moved into line in the suspiciously spacious depths of the tiny room.

“Dibby has taken your robes, ladies and gentlemens. If you be requiring them at any time, feel free to shout and they shall appear.”

They nodded as she moved them along, opening the main doors and announcing their arrival, to the curious looks of the current inhabitants.

Scorpius was there in a flash, a very bemused looking Malfoy trailing behind him. “Albus! You’ve got to come and try the fizzing lemonade, dad had it imported especially from this place in France mum used to love…” In an instant the pair were gone, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny to take in the magnificence of the entrance way.

Instead of the drafty, dull and lifeless house the trio remembered, the Manor was a house transformed, Christmas trees almost reaching the top of the tall entrance way softly swayed, adorned in decorations and releasing a delightful pine scent as they moved. Candles were suspended in beautiful crystal chandeliers and on every table or wall mirrors reflected more candle light, some in candelabras, some floating around, all giving the place a wonderful feeling of Christmas and light and warmth.

But in between the joy and cheer being spread around, Harry was starting to feel anxious. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, putting him ill at ease.

“Draco,” Hermione started, “the Manor looks magnificent. Thank you so much for the invitation to dine with you tonight.”

“You’re very welcome, Minister. It’s a pleasure to have you here. If you need anything, please feel free to call for Dibby or any of the other free House-Elves that the Manor employees.” He turned to Harry, “Potter, Weasley, Pot..Ginny, it’s lovely for you to join us. Please enjoy the festivities.” He said with a smile.

As he spoke, birds began to fly around the entrance hall, bring awes from the gathered masses. He departed as the four made their way further into the hall, elves wandered around levitating trays of champagne, and fizzing pumpkin juice, while others offered canapes. Ron attempted to grab up a handful of what looked to be mini-pizzas, receiving a shock as they lifted and began to float toward his mouth. Looking perturbed, he opened up for one of them to delicately place itself upon his tongue. The young house elf tugged on the edge of his robe. “That’s masters doing, he says there’s no point in serving these things if people will get messy.”

The four of them laughed at the extravagance and began to let themselves relax into the atmosphere, Ron and Harry attempted to see who could fit more floating foods into their mouths, only to discover the spell had much better manners than either of them, and that the food would float politely by their heads until they successfully had finished their first morsel. Much to the amusement of Ginny and Hermione.

Something was still tugging at Harry though. Every time one of the birds swooped past him, he swore it was a pigeon. Only to gather his courage and check to see a dove, no pigeons in sight.

As the evening progressed, Harry got jumpier by the minute, he couldn’t see the birds flying anywhere near other guests, and he was sure the last time one flew by it was definitely a pigeon. As his fidgeting became more obvious, Ginny attempted to sooth him, by putting her arm around his, and almost paid for it with a black eye when another bird flew by, causing Harry to jump, elbows out and on the defensive, causing a few other party goers to glance in their direction.

The more he saw though, the more anxious he got. No matter where he looked, pigeons where everywhere. In the ornate carvings of the stair case, in the paintings on the walls, pigeons, pigeons everywhere and when he voiced his concerns to the group, he was met with mild befuddlement. Even Ginny, knowing of his ongoing issues couldn’t’ see what he was fussing about.

It came to a head as they were called into the dining hall, the corridor they walked through was filled with curios and on every other stood a stuffed pigeon. Their beady eyes staring at him as they progressed. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he clung to Ginny, the weird shifting of the light had him convinced that at any second they were going to come for him.

“Harry,” Ginny whispered, “what has gotten into you?”

Harry turned to her, “The pigeons. Ginny, there’s pigeons everywhere. I can’t. I can’t deal with them.”

“Pull yourself together, it’s just some stuffed birds – now are you the saviour of the wizarding world, or what?” She attempted to toughen him through it.

“Or what, I think.” He said timidly, sighing in relief as they came into the magnificent dining hall. The sigh was cut short, when he saw the decorating theme. It was like a nightmare come to life, pigeons everywhere. Even Ginny made a noise of concern when she saw the vast amounts of them staged around the room. On every pot, plate, cup or glass was painted or etched a vision of pigeons. The chairs and tables were covered in carved woodland scenes, pigeons apparent as they swooped and swirled on the wood. The curtains, the drapery, the table cloths were all coordinated in matching grey, black and the mixture of iridescent green and purple that adorned a pigeons plumage. 

Harry’s breath started to come in shorter puffs as Malfoy walked passed and noticed his distress. He walked over, every inch the respectable host, as if to check on Harry. Only to ask in his old school boy drawl, “What’s a matter Potter? Not a fan of pigeons?” he smirked.

It took Harry a second to come to the conclusion that this wasn’t just an accident and was about to give Malfoy a piece of his mine when Albus and Scorpius came rushing up to them, full of the joys of sneaking sips of firewhiskey from unattended glasses, quickly putting an end to any confrontation that might have happened.

“Now boys, I thought we could all sit together and get to know each other a little better. Birds of a feather and all that.” With that Malfoy called attention to the room and guests started filtering in to their seats. Harry looked around with caution to find where he’d been sat, only for Malfoy to gesture to the seat at the head of the table.

While everyone was being seated Harry took a moment to calm himself and try not to freak out at the hundreds of pigeons staring at him. Ginny reached over and whispered that they could leave if they needed to. But Harry refused. Malfoy knew, he somehow knew that Harry was petrified of pigeons and he wasn’t about to let him win.

Malfoy stood, flicking is wand as a light sound gathered the attention of the dinner guests.

“Minister, esteemed guests, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to wish you all a warm welcome to the annual Malfoy Yule celebration. It is not ever year that we have in our mists not only the Minister herself, but also her compatriot and best of friends, the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, our hero, the Savoir himself – Harry Potter.” As Malfoy announced his name, two of the menacing menagerie of pigeons flew themselves towards Harry, who ducked and managed to upset not only his own plate and drink, but that of Ginny and Hermione as well. He could feel the blush cover him from head to toe as the entire table fell into a deeper silence at the cacophony while house elves effortlessly and silently cleaned and reset the table

“Tonight’s theme was supposed to be of Peace, an unfortunate mistranslation left us with pigeons instead of doves to promote this message, but I believe that it is a message that stands untarnished by those who deliver it – Peace to all! Peace to those who we celebrate with here and to who we share joy, laughter and love. And above all, peace for the wizarding world. Now please, join me in raising a glass to peace! Long may we enjoy it. Be seated, and enjoy the festivities.” With that Malfoy graciously sat back in his chair, to enthusiast applause as the first course appeared on their plates.

Wood pigeon with wild berries.

Harry sat in silence, ignoring the swift glances between his friends, and instead staring into Malfoys delighted face.

“What’s the matter, Potter? Scared?!”

Harry noted that Hermione’s swift reactions had her casting advanced muffliato spell that she had created, the spell move outside of just muffling a conversation, and created a ward. One side of it would look like the conversation the other side was having was still going on as if nothing had changed, but the other side could move around freely, or in this case, dive across a table, spilling glassware and plates in every direction while Harry attempted to get to Malfoy’s smirking face.

In the resulting melee, Harry and Malfoy ended up rolling around on the floor, trying to get a punch in and failing due to the constrictive nature of their fancy robes.

Only the join cries of “Dad!” coming from Albus and Scorpius brought them to sense. Well that, and a triple casting of stupefy from Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

Harry watched as Hermione shored up her spell work, while the elves continued to fix the place settings as best they could. Ginny, with a dark look on her face, unstupified him, putting him back in his seat, while Ron did the same (although with a lot less of a gentle touch) to Malfoy.

“Now.” Hermione’s voice rang out across their section of the table. “Does anyone want to explain to me exactly what’s going on?”

Harry and Malfoy exchanged foul looks, and refused to answer.

“What I think has happened, Hermione, is that Malfoy heard about Harry’s dislike of pigeons and has purposefully crafted an evening to torment him.” Her voice was dark, even while she was trying to smile.

“Malfoy? Is this true?” Malfoy deigned not to answer, “Of all the despicable things. Inviting us here just to humiliate Harry in this way. And to have the nerve to speak of peace while trying to do something so underhanded.”

“Dad, is that true?” Scorpius questioned in a sad and disappointed voice. “You promised, no one would get hurt or arrested.”

“Well, no one is getting either of those things, don’t worry.” Hermione interjected.

“…I didn’t invite you all here under false pretences. I invited you because Scorpius wanted his friend here, and I thought it might mend bridges. Only to learn that it doesn’t matter what a Malfoy does, in Potters eyes they are never going to be good enough.” Offended pride shone through Malfoy’s voice and poise and he tried to explain himself to Scorpius.

“But Malfoy, why would you think that?” Ginny asked.

“The other morning, after we had breakfasted, I popped my head over the floo to ask if Albus could stay over at the Manor for the night. Only you didn’t hear me shouting and as soon as I tried a second time, Potter” He spat the name, “was already plotting ways to stop the boys from seeing each other, since Malfoys are clearly the worst of the worst and couldn’t possibly be worthy of befriending a Potter.” He turned his head away, clearly done with the conversation.

“Dad?” This time it was Albus questioning in a sad and disappointed tone, “Did you really say that? Again? You said it was fine for us to be friends now. What. Are you going to stop us from seeing each other again?”

“No. Oh Merlin.” Harry started, “I’m sorry no. Not at all, Albus, I’m glad you have such a great friend, and I’m truly sorry Malfoy, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I did, but I didn’t. I just, it threw me off balance seeing you in the kitchen, and I guess I was just lashing out. Look, we’re clearly never going to see eye to eye on a great many things, but I want us, all of us, to at least manage to be friendly. For our boys?” Potter stood and walked around the table, offering his hand to Malfoy in a last ditched attempted to make amends. “I’ll forgive you the pigeons, if you forgive me for being a git?”

Malfoy stood and looked at the outstretched offer, before begrudgingly shaking Harry’s hand. “I guess you weren’t the only git. Truce?”

“Now hold on a min-” Ron started and quickly finished as Hermione nudged him to keep quite. “I mean, if it’s for Albus I guess it’s the only thing to do.” He said, standing and making to shake Malfoy’s hand as well. “You’ve got to admit, that was a smashing bit of spell work with the pigeons.”

“The pigeons!” Scorpius chimed in, “that was just the start of it, and he’s been at it all week, spelling the carvings, transfiguring the statutes. I thought Grandma Narcissa was going to skin him when she saw all the ‘dirty, digesting pigeons’ everywhere.”

Malfoy’s normally pallid complexion flushed with a rosy tint.

“Blimey, you don’t do things by half Malfoy. Well. I guess we should take our seats, Hermione can’t hold this charm forever.”

“I could, but I’d much rather we all sat down like civilised adults and continued. If you will.”

With the matter somewhat resolved, the party took their seats and as Hermione dropped the charm, the beetle scuttling off from under the table wasn’t noticed at all.

“Everyone,” Malfoy stood again, “if I could take a moment, I think we’ve managed to rectify the bird problem.” With a flick of his wand the pigeons across the room transformed into their pure white counter parts and harmlessly flew to their designated perches, the table clothes turned from the decadent grey to a shimmering white, as mountains of pure white sorbet scooped into the perfect circle, popped up on the table, white cold mist swirling around them, as desert was served. “Please, enjoy your final course and I look forward to seeing you all later at the ball.”

**

Harry Potter and the Party Fowl: The Boy Who Lived! Afraid of Birds.

A Hard Hitting Investigative Report by Rita Skeeta

Harry clunked his head down onto Molly’s table, groaning aloud at the headline staring at him from the front page of the Daily Prophet. How the hell had she managed this?! When he glanced up, it was to see the collective heads of Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Albus looking at him with various degrees of interest and laughter.

“Oi mate, I know it’s been a while, but what a way to get back in the press.” Ron joked as he pulled the Daily Prophet towards himself and took a seat across from Harry, the others joining them as they started to tuck into the plentiful breakfast foods that Molly had laid out.

“Oh really. That women is the absolute worst.” Chimed in Hermione, frown crossing her brow as she took in the sight of Harry’s disarray, taking a bit of toast from the plate in front of her.

“Well, it’s kind of true Aunt Hermione, he did pretty much have a full on panic attack in the middle of dinner. It was bound to make the papers.” Harry could see that Albus was trying very hard to keep the small ember of joy at his humiliation under wraps, but was failing spectacularly at it.

“So, what’s the story then?” Ron questioned.

“Huh?”

“With the birds, there’s got to be more to it than the great Harry Potter getting in a twizzle over a flying rat.”

“Yeah dad, since you ruined the night, you could at least tell us why.” Albus continued to fail at hiding his joy at the current turn of events.

Harry looked once more to his friends and loved ones, and knew at once there was no escaping it. He would finally have to tell them about the pigeons.

“Come on Harry, maybe talking about it will help.” Ginny added, reaching out to join their hands together.

“…Fine. But you’d better not laugh.” Ginny and Hermione nodded at once, while Albus and Ron threw conspiratorial glances at each other, at least Harry could count on the women in his life for support. “Well, it all started in the summer of 1990…”

Hermione poured herself a steaming cup of tea, and gathered it too her, listening intently. Ginny did likewise with a hot cup of chocolate, while Ron lent forward, keenly looking forward to the story. Albus looked unsure, but settled in with a cup of pumpkin juice. With their attention successfully focused, Harry continued.

“I’d turned 10 in July, and, well. It hadn’t been a very good 10th birthday or year for that matter. But when the weather started to turn, something happened to me. Something weird.

It all started one morning in late August, just before school began. Dudley and Piers had taken to chasing me off if I dared venture near the play-ground, and the other kids weren’t going to play with me known that they’d chase off anyone who tried. So I mostly spent my days hanging around the garden in Privet Drive trying to enjoy the last of summer. I even helped Aunt Petunia with the flower beds one day, it was almost a nice time. As we were pruning, a flock of pigeons flew overhead, sending her off into tizzy about how they were foul creates, flying vermin full of disease who wanted nothing more than to ruin her beautifully tended garden. I mean, obviously that meant I thought they were the greatest creatures around.”

“Hang on mate,” Ron interrupted, “I thought you were telling us why you were scared of birds, not why you liked them.”

“Not birds. Just pigeons. I did like them. I think that’s why it happened, and I mean at the time, I had no clue what it meant. I hoped it meant that I was the pigeon overlord and they were going to come and rescue me, I mean – wizard might have been the more accurate guess, but I never figured I would be anything as cool as that.”

“What happened?” Albus questioned, leaning closer to Harry as he continued.

“Well, at first it was just one of them. One of the pigeons that had been flying around flew down and, well, made friends with me, is the best way to put it. It would follow me around, and once it even helped pick up some trash that I dropped before Vernon could see the mess. I thought I was some weird version of Sleeping Beauty for about a day.”

“Underage magic?” Hermione started. “I mean, it seems quite an advanced bit of it if you managed to bind an animal to do your bidding, the kind of thing you’d think the ministry would have picked up on.” She continued hypothesizing out loud.

“I think, I think Dumbledore might have had something to do with it. I mean, that wasn’t the first time I’d done it either, and I don’t think I manged to bind it to me.”

“Ummm. No, wandless magic in minors is normally ignored providing the family can show they are able to control it. But maybe Dumbledore was running interference.”

“Or maybe they did come looking,” Ron interjected, “but the Fidelius Charm stopped them from finding him?”

“Oh Ron, you are a genius at times.” Hermione replied, smiling lovingly at him. “That must have been it,” Harry looked at them in despair. “But, I’m sure the specifics aren’t important right now. Are they Harry? Do go on.”

“Right, so after that first day things went swiftly downhill. The first pigeon was always friendly, but on the second day another pigeon joined in, and then a third and then another, and another. They’d all land around the back garden, cooing at me and looking at me with their beady little eyes. Petunia went apoplectic at them, and chased them off once or twice with a broom, but they’d keep coming back. If I tried to go outside it turned into a scene from a horror movie, they’d just start swiping at me and pecking.” Harry stopped to shudder in memory of the pecking. Ginny started soothingly running a hand up and down his back. “It was horrid, every time I so much as moved towards a door one of them would land in front of it, cooing at me and looking at me.”

“About a week into it everything came to a peak. Dudley had come down with a summer cold, so Petunia had decided to make her famous chicken stew, the bird was plucked and in a pan waiting to be put in the oven, when the phone rang and she ran off to answer it. It was Marge, so I knew she’d be stuck for a while. As I was doing the pots, my original pigeon friend appeared at the window, the other’s seemed to have disappeared so, in my stupidity, I left the washing up and went out to talk to him. Well. That lasted for about all of thirty seconds, before the others appeared and started attacking once again, I ran into the house and slammed the sliding door shut. I guess the pigeon didn’t realise and flew straight into it. I’m pretty sure it died instantly. But, in my shock I disappeared the chicken.”

“Wait…you disappeared the chicken?”

“I assume Harry’s magic was trying to get rid of the pigeon, but being so uncontrolled went a little haywire.”

“I didn’t really assume anything, I was in a blind panic. The chicken was gone, I could hear Petunia saying her goodbyes and I knew that I was going to be in big time trouble if she came back.”

“So what happened?” Albus was fully absorbed with the story now.

“Well, I guess my magic tried again, as she slammed the phone down I jumped and when I caught my balance, the pigeon was plucked and stuffed in the stew pot. I mean, I could tell there was something wrong, so I knew Petunia would as well. I slammed the lid down and hoped to god she wouldn’t look in it. Thankfully she didn’t, so in the oven the stew went.”

“You…you ate the pigeon?” Ginny asked, horror clearly written across her features.

“Of course not! I knew it was pigeon. I feigned being ill and got sent to my cupboard extra early.”

Ron, almost bursting with laughter at this point, chimed in. “So, you got chased by pigeons, magic’d away a chicken, magic’d a pigeon into a pot and left them to eat pigeon? Crickey mate, that’s brilliant! Couldn’t have happened to nice people!” With that he burst into laughter, Albus still looked confused over it all, but gave a chuckle as well.

“I didn’t MEAN TOO!” Harry cried.

“No! Of course not! That’s what makes it even better!” Ron continued chuckling to himself, before Hermione gave him a nudge to the side.

“It wasn’t my fault they all got sick…” Harry said, setting Ron off again.

“Oh Harry. I think we can all understand why you’ve got a slight pigeon issue after that story.” Hermione said. “It’s fascinating that you could wield such magic at such a young age” she continued, eyes blazing with the desire for knowledge. “I wonder-” before she could get any further, Ron returned her nudge with a glance towards Harry, that he valiantly ignored.

“Yeah dad. That was wild. I mean, the most I ever did to you when I was little was turn your hair green for a week.” Harry groaned at the memory.

“If we’ve all done with my captivating story? Maybe we could move on to other topics.” Harry said sternly. Ron and Hermione glanced at him again, and clearly seeing something across his face, shuffled off with Albus, taking him to look at some of the more crazy Muggle-Wizarding inventions Arthur had been concocting.

“For what it’s worth,” Ginny turned towards him, “you aren’t the only one who did weird things with magic in their youth. Fred and George once managed to turn the pond into chocolate milk, and killed all the fish in it. Ron, well the less said about Ron’s little mishaps the better. What I’m trying to say is that magic works in mysterious ways. Maybe it thought it was helping, but I doubt the pigeons truly had it in for you, and I don’t think you need to be scared anymore.”

“What about the ones at Malfoy Manor? Huh, they sure seemed to have my number.” Harry added bitterly.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that was more to do with Malfoy that it was with the pigeons, but since that’s all been settled. I’m thinking we try and put this whole thing behind us. And maybe you go and talk to someone about this?”

Harry nodded, “As always, you were probably right about that.”

Ginny smiled at him as Ron, Hermione and Albus came back into the kitchen. And added, “After all, it doesn’t do to run around like a chicken with its head cut off.”

It took a while for the sound of laughter to die down.


End file.
